


Night Flower

by VulcanKissesHuman



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Allergies, Hurt Jim, M/M, Vulnerable Spock, fascinating plants and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 20:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5757460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulcanKissesHuman/pseuds/VulcanKissesHuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starfleet Instructor, Spock saves Jim from a dangerous allergy attack. The chance encounter fuels feelings that Jim thinks aren’t returned, until Spock invites him to the Academy’s gardens to see the rare and beautiful Var-kodar plant that only blooms at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Flower

**Author's Note:**

> ok so this was a sweet oneshot written for dragonvamp on tumblr who had a terrible week and needed some cheering up. any grammar errors are mine, as I didn't have a beta. enjoy the spirkiness!

“- As we all know, the Sla’elian society rapidly developed warp mechanics, without sacrificing it’s cultural –“

Instructor Wells continued speaking but Jim tuned her out. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in galactic cultural anthropology or that Instructor Wells wasn’t a good teacher, hell, she was one of the best at the Academy. He just didn’t think he could continue sitting up straight and taking notes and following along with the lecture without something having to give. He tugged slightly at the high collar of his red cadet uniform. Shortness of breath, tingling in hands and feet, blinding headache, stomach pains. Yeah, he had had enough allergic reactions to know what he was going through.

Unfortunately, Bones was gone at a medical conference in Cape Cod and the medkit that Bones made up for Jim’s numerous allergies was back at their dorm somewhere. Jim stared down at the smooth desktop in front of him and concentrated on inhaling slowly and evenly as he could. Bones would kill Jim if he didn’t excuse himself and seek medical aid, but Jim didn’t really feel that a minor allergy attack was enough to call his roommate back from his seminar and Jim sure as hell wasn’t seeing somebody else. Being a sickly, accident-prone kid had left him with dogged endurance, as well as intuition regarding how long he could stave off doctors and hypos. He’d go see one if he really needed it, but he wasn’t turning blue or in so much pain that he was ready to consider it a crisis.

Slow breaths. That was what mattered now. Jim pushed fingers through his blond hair then immediately dropped his hand when he realized how much it was shaking. He hadn’t remembered the lights being this bright in Instructor Wells’ classroom, and yeah, he was definitely feverish now. Jim frowned hard at the desk, trying to think of everything he ate or drank in the last day. It couldn’t be peanuts, he’d be dead by now, but something else…mustard? Strawberries? Mangos? No, he was careful to avoid those…though it could have been some chemical….sharp pain in his stomach interrupted his thoughts and Jim clenched his teeth.

He risked a glance at the clock. Ten more minutes and then he was done and he could go back to the dorm and rest. Most of his allergic reactions went away just doing that. Shit, he’d gotten used to it as a kid, he’d been so allergic to everything that his mom had grown tired of taking him to the hospital and just had him try to sleep it off. It usually worked. The times it didn’t weren’t often enough to think about. Thinking was getting harder to do anyway and Jim tried not to panic as his throat begin to burn and itch. He needed to cough but couldn’t find the air to do so. All around him heads were bent over desks, busy scribbling notes and Jim forced himself to grip his stylus and pretend.

When class was dismissed, he sat still, wondering if he’d be able to make it back to the dorm. His legs were fine, just kinda numb and his eyesight was still there. He’d be okay. Jim hauled himself upright, any unsteadiness unnoticed in the rustle of everyone leaving. Walking wasn’t so bad but his stomach was really killing him now, his throat closing up. Fuck. Maybe he should just go to medical… but then they’d pump him full of the antibiotics that he was also allergic to. And there would be that exasperated look he’d received as a kid every time he cringed from hypos because half the time they caused a worse effect than the initial attack. Nope. He’d be fine. He was fine.

Jim allowed the crowd of cadets to push their way past him, his abdomen muscles knotting so fiercely that he almost dropped his bag. It took a lot to not automatically lean up against some wall and hyperventilate. The lights in the Academy corridors were bright enough that he kept his gaze on the ground and just blindly meandered to the dorms.

The relative quiet of the student dorms was a relief and Jim halted on the stairs leading up to the rooms, the veins on his neck standing out at each ragged inhale. He wobbled up another step, suddenly not sure if he was going to make it all the way up. Jim closed his eyes, his stomach felt as if someone had doused it with gasoline and set it on fire. He should have gone to medical. There was a student down the hall named Christine who was a nurse, she might know…but the eerie quiet surrounded him, the lights dimmed and Jim remembered a mandatory meeting in the assembly for cadets. Of course. No one else was here. _Well shit,_ he thought, somehow managing a smile before yanking himself up another step.

It wasn’t enough, his feet were numb and he slipped, crashing down a few steps. The slow rhythm of breathing was suddenly impossible to master and his hand flailed at the stair above him as he tried to draw in a ragged gasp of air. _Breathe!_ He ordered himself, _just fucking breathe!_ Footsteps came from somewhere above and Jim tried to get back up, to not just stay sprawled on the stairs like a drunk. But that required air and strength and the burning in his stomach to stop.

“Do not move.” A calm voice ordered him and Jim was aware of a man kneeling down on the steps next to him, the dim light gleaming on a neat cap of sleek black hair, the charcoal gray of a uniform.

Instructor Spock, Jim’s mind supplied somewhere and he felt humiliated and relieved all at once for someone to find him, even if it was the mysterious Vulcan Instructor.

“I’m…okay…” Jim gasped out and then regretted speaking, regretted the loss of more air that he needed.

The Vulcan kneeling next to him reached out, his hand hot against Jim’s throat, strong slender fingers searching for the cause of distress.

“Your air passageways are blocked. Remain still, you require immediate medical attention.”

Jim didn’t think he could argue if he wanted to. As for moving, that was nonnegotiable. Even the smallest movement hurt his stomach, his muscles twitching slightly from the pain. Through narrowed vision he watched the dark thin shape of Instructor Spock reach for a communicator, but it was all so far away…

* * *

The quiet beeping of machines woke him and Jim blinked, drawing in air greedily, relieved just to be able to do that without pain, even if it was recycled air he was breathing with that unique scent hospitals always had.

“For God’s sake, I leave you alone for two days and this happens?”

Jim turned dazed blue eyes towards the irate voice, meeting the irritated expression of his doctor.

“Bones!” he exclaimed and Bones’ mouth twitched, his hazel eyes unable to mask his relief and worry as he stepped forward, his suit rumpled as if he had slept in it.

“Took you long enough.” He mumbled, yanking a tricorder out of the pocket of a white medcoat he had hastily thrown on over his suit.

Jim lay still impatiently during the scan before sitting up.

“I thought you were in Cape Cod.”

Bones pursed his lips.

“I was. You scared the shit out of medical here, so I beamed back.”

Jim rubbed the back of his neck, realizing he was only wearing his white briefs as he pushed the sheets off the biobed. He swung his legs over the edge, ignoring the whirring protest of machines.

“Sorry about you missing your conference.” He mumbled.

Bones scowled, pocketing the tricorder.

“Yeah, well, it was boring anyway,” he said, feigning indifference before the scowl deepened, “what you should be apologizing for is not going to a doctor right when you noticed your symptoms! You waited way too long!”

Jim shifted uneasily,

“I thought it would go away…” he muttered, staring at his knees.

He expected an angry tirade but instead Bones sighed,

“Jim,” he said patiently, “you don’t have to hide your health issues anymore, okay? I know that things were different when you were a kid, but you can’t just…” he trailed off and Jim looked away.

This conversation was getting incredibly awkward.

“I feel fine now.”

He meant to protest, something to distract them both from the emotional shit he felt whenever Bones gave him that weirdly paternal look and speech. But the words came out quiet and Bones shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter, you weren’t even conscious when medical got to you, they were about ready to give you Crolaesxine, which you _know_ you’re deathly allergic to. If it wasn’t for that Vulcan Instructor who found you, you’d be dead right now from something that was supposed to cure you.”

Jim blinked, confused for a moment before he remembered the dark brown eyes beneath slanted brows, the short traditional bangs.

“Holy shit.”

He flushed, recalling Spock’s hand on his throat, trying to figure out what was wrong.

“That’s what I thought when they called me about it all. Turns out Commander Spock told medical you were allergic to Crolaesxine and they backed off, used Rikeraz, which you’re not _quite_ as allergic to. Anyway, I beamed in, threw their ignorant asses out and saved you. So you owe me a beer.”

Jim nodded absently,

“Yeah, definitely…How did Instructor Spock know I was allergic to Crolaesxine?”

Bones shrugged, tugging at the tie he had already roughly loosened a few hours ago.

“How the hell would I know? He probably memorized every cadet’s medical file. Vulcans are weird.”

Jim shook his head, still confused, climbing out of bed and trying to find where his uniform was.

“I should go say thank you.”

Bones snorted,

“Just get clothes on first.” He suggested, ducking the flat pillow from the biobed that Jim tossed at him.

* * *

Two hours later, after Jim had answered everyone he was supposed to about why he had missed the assembly meeting, why he was allergic to Crolaesxine when apparently no one else was, why he hadn’t been paying attention in Instructor Wells’ class, and so on, he found himself outside the Instructors offices. Quick research on his PADD had already informed him where Spock’s office was and that the Instructor taught three classes, was first officer and chief science officer under Captain Pike, and wasn’t fully Vulcan. The last part was a surprise but Jim remembered hearing something about a Vulcan ambassador with a human wife, so Spock must be their kid, which was pretty awesome.

He hit the comm button before he lost his nerve, straightening his red uniform and trying to think of what to say. When he was a little kid he used to make thank you cards for strangers and medical officials that had stepped in whenever he had an allergy attack. He stopped doing it when his mom told him to, but at the moment a homemade card seemed easier then trying to thank the stern and reclusive Vulcan Instructor in person. His thoughts were cut short by the opaque office door sliding open and Jim stepped in quickly.

Instructor Spock was seated at a glass table, PADDs neatly stacked next to him. For a moment his head was bent over a PADD, light falling on that sleek dark hair, showing highlights so black they looked almost blue. _Beautiful,_ Jim thought, then froze and mentally screamed at himself for making things a hundred times more awkward.

Spock looked up suddenly, watching him. They stared at each other. Now knowing that Spock wasn’t fully Vulcan, Jim could see minor differences in his features. Spock’s lips were slightly fuller, his skin paler, his eyes larger. Overall, he was a lot more attractive then most Vulcan males that Jim had seen pictures of, since they always looked so stoic, but he doubted Vulcans saw it that way.

“Cadet Kirk.” Spock said, his voice quiet, the pitch and diction exact.

Shit. Was Jim actually noticing the guy’s voice? What was going on? He straightened, saluting,

“Instructor Spock.”

Jim hesitated, not knowing if he should step forward or not, Vulcans liked their space but it seemed weird to talk with a whole room between them. Not that the office was that big. It just seemed larger with how bare it was, the only decoration an unusual bladed weapon on the wall.

“Um-“ Jim said intelligently before looking down at his boots, “I just wanted to say, well that is…I mean if you hadn’t been in the dorms, I might not – uh…”

Fuck, this was hard. A lot harder then he thought now that Spock was staring at him, the Instructor’s gaze calm, yet intense, his uniform fitting his thin frame nicely. Really, really nicely.

“I was informed by the medical staff this morning that you would make a full recovery.”

Jim considered backtracking, flushing as he understood that of course his being here was stupid, but then he realized that Spock was saying that he had deliberately asked about Jim when he could have gone on his own way once medics had arrived. Which brought up another thought.

“Yeah, how did you know I was allergic to Crolaesxine?”

The Vulcan blinked before laying his stylus down, regarding Jim fully and yeah, no way did that not feel good, to have someone look him in the eye and take him seriously.

“Captain Pike informed me that you were a cadet I should familiarize with, he believed that you would be –“ a slight wrinkle came between those arched brows as Spock seemed to consider something before continuing speaking, “prone to recklessness if not properly guided. However, I saw little need to interfere in your life. You have been a exceptional student and starfleet member and your social interaction with others does not seem particularly lacking nor heedless when considering human culture.”

Jim frowned,

“Pike wanted you to take me under your wing?” he clarified but apparently confused Spock more who tilted his head in thought, Jim waved a hand,

“Human idiom, sorry. That’s really, wow, strange. But hey, it’s nice to meet you.” he said and felt himself finally able to relax when Spock lifted his hand in the ta’al,

“I am gratified to make your acquaintance as well, Cadet Kirk.”

Jim grinned, blue eyes shining in the soft white light of the room,

“It’s Jim, actually.” He said and the Instructor arched an eyebrow,

“Jim.” He replied, as if testing the word out and Jim _absolutely_ did not blush, or feel his insides get all warm at how Spock said his name.

Shit, what was wrong with him? He felt like he had when he kissed Sara Greenward in seventh grade. Of course she had ended up dumping him when he had a allergy attack a few days later because she didn’t want ‘a boyfriend with problems’ but the feeling was still the same. And Spock had already seen his allergy attacks and hadn’t been weirded out so…

No, Jim wasn’t even going to go there, he was just going to nod, salute and leave and never think about what it would be like to have someone look him in the eyes so attentively and say his name like that everyday. So he did, even if it was hard. Unfairly hard.

* * *

Okay, so Jim was in love with a Vulcan, a Vulcan who up until two months ago had never spoken to him. Now though, Spock made it a habit to speak to him whenever their paths crossed, addressing him by first name and with that same focused gaze from earlier. They ate lunch together sometimes and discussed math and politics and Jim tried really hard not to let Spock know how much Spock being a scientist and doing science stuff was attractive. Or the way he looked in his uniform. The dark gray uniform was made for Spock, fitting perfectly and when it was slightly damp from rain, or the light was dim in the room, it looked as black as Spock’s hair and Jim thought a lot about it. More then he should have.

All that semester he wrote essay after essay, took exam after exam and always a part of his mind was wondering what Spock was doing, what he was thinking. He wondered if they’d meet up spontaneously for lunch, if Spock would look at him in that quiet way he did sometimes, as if Jim was something too interesting, too _fascinating_ to ever look away from.

Of course Spock wouldn’t know that’s how it felt, he was just attempting to be friendly. And Jim was just fine being friends, even if it meant thinking a lot about Spock, or deciding to suddenly become celibate, or hell, walking the long way around campus so he could pass the room where Spock taught and just possibly hear his calm clear voice. It was crazy, Jim was crazy and it wasn’t getting any better, not when Spock suggested they visit the Academy’s flower garden one night.

It was suggested very matter-of-factly over lunch. They were discussing rare flowers, though botany wasn’t a favorite subject of either of theirs, and Spock sat back in his chair and regarded Jim with a slightly raised eyebrow,

“The Academy gardens has a Var-kodar flower they recently transplanted. It is being overseen by the horticultural department, however, as it only blossoms at night few have seen it in full bloom.”

Jim nodded, thinking of the slew of poems and stories about the Var-kodar bush, a small shrub with flowers that many people considered the most beautiful in the universe.

“Bet that pisses off the horticultural department.”

When Spock’s other eyebrow rose, Jim shrugged,

“What? It’s true, it looks amazing when it blooms and they’re missing out on it. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t be disappointed if you were a botany nut.”

Spock blinked,

“Have you seen a Var-kodar in bloom?” he asked and Jim shook his head, setting his fork down and fiddling with the high collar of his crimson uniform,

“No, just pictures.”

Spock considered him for a moment before speaking quietly, in a voice that nonetheless reached Jim’s ears in the loud cafeteria.

“Would you like to?”

Jim stared at him,

“Wait, you mean you’re allowed in the gardens at night and the botanists aren’t?”

Spock reached for his water glass, sipping from it while never taking his eyes from Jim. God, that was hot.

“Since I programmed the security codes into the locking mechanisms of the Academy doors, I am technically allowed anywhere on campus.”

Okay that was more than hot. Spock was openly suggesting that he would hack into the door codes to sneak them into the gardens so they could watch a flowering shrub bloom in the moonlight.

“You’re awesome, you know that.” Jim said before he could check the warmth filling his voice.

Spock took another sip of water without comment, but Jim saw the slight softening around his mouth and the way Spock’s eyes shone a dark glorious brown in the crowded room.

* * *

Which is why, ten hours later they were walking through the gardens, light from the stars and moon gleaming over them. There was a slight breeze but it was a hot night and even Spock didn’t seem cold with the balminess surrounding them.

“Wow, this is amazing, Spock.” Jim declared, looking around curiously.

Spock had pulled a tricorder out and was scanning plants, occasionally rattling off the scientific names and history behind different flowers.

“You must tell me at once if you are experiencing allergic reactions to anything, Jim.” Spock had asked him sternly when they had first entered the garden and Jim had agreed, mostly because he liked hearing Spock say his name.

He suspected the Instructor had already scanned the area for any harmful plants beforehand, judging by how Spock wasn’t caring that Jim was touching occasional plants and leaning down to inhale the scents of aromatic flowers.

“The Var-kodar plant is 6.753 meters ahead.” Spock pointed out and Jim straightened up, moving carefully over to Spock’s side so as not to step on any plants.

The garden path was narrow and Jim could feel heat coming off Spock’s body. When it came to physiology, Spock seemed a lot like what Jim had read about Vulcans, as he didn’t like the cold and had hot skin as well as sensitive hands. Jim had learned enough to know that touching hands was considered intimate, though he was unsure if it was like kissing or maybe more extreme. Sometimes, he could privately admit, he thought about touching Spock’s hands, or his face, or really any part of him.

They walked the same pace and Jim quelled the urge to put his hand on Spock’s back, to feel that charge of heat from Spock’s skin. The moonlight fell on them both and Jim lifted his head, briefly looking up at the stars, searching through the bright constellations for 40 Eridani, the Vulcan sun.

When he lowered his head, Spock was studying his face, the Vulcan’s eyes so dark in the shadows that they appeared almost black. His pale skin gleamed in the moonlight, a slight green hue rising across his cheekbones. His lips were parted in breath. Momentarily, Jim wondered if that was what Spock would look like when making love but stopped that thought as quickly as he could. Blushing, he shifted his gaze away. Spock was still watching him with that content sort of focus but they continued walking and pretty soon Spock stepped forward, scanning the area with his tricorder.

“This way.” he said calmly and Jim followed him around a corner, jerking to a halt at the plant before them.

The Var-kodar bush was larger then he thought it would be. It was incredible. At least twenty exquisite flowers clung to its fine leafed branches. The leaves were slender, nearly transparent and silver-green. The flowers were a vivid purple, the numerous petals thin and splayed in layers of rich color. The smell was amazing. Jim crouched down, tentatively reaching out to touch the edge of a petal. Spock waved his tricorder wordlessly, stepping back to record more data. Jim didn’t know how much time passed while they looked at the plant, all he knew was the way the moonlight slanted across the flowers, the humid heat of the air, the subtle almost unheard breathing of Spock near him.

“Many humans describe the Var-kodar plant as the most beautiful thing they have ever seen.” Spock said suddenly, his voice oddly shy, his tricorder by his side now.

Jim looked up at him, squinting slightly in the shadowy light, the Instructor’s dark gray uniform almost blending into the background.

“And Vulcans?” Jim asked without thinking.

Spock swallowed noticeably, looking toward the plant before meeting Jim’s eyes.

“There are other things more beautiful to Vulcans.” He said quietly in the sudden stillness between them.

Jim stood slowly, staring at Spock. The Vulcan’s face was pale, but he could not seem to look away from Jim. After a moment, Spock bit his lower lip, the motion shockingly human and vulnerable.

“Jim, I confess that Captain Pike’s wish for us to contact one another was only partially so that I could provide guidance for you at the Academy. He also thought that I would benefit positively,” Spock paused, eyes flickering to the ground before meeting Jim’s again, “He believed that I was lonely.” He admitted hesitantly.

Jim inhaled slowly, lost in Spock’s intent stare, in the way that Spock’s hands were clasped behind his back, the tension in the Vulcan’s shoulders.

“Were you?” he asked and Spock blinked, eyes narrowing slightly in thought, widening again as Jim took a small step forward.

“At the time, I did not believe I was.” He replied, his voice laced with the edge of breathlessness.

Jim smiled, almost bittersweet.

“I didn’t think I was either.” He whispered.

They had both moved closer to one another, the smell of flowers all around them.

“Jim,” Spock said softly and hell Jim wanted Spock to say that all the time, to look at him like he was now, shy, yet somehow wild.

“I am not aware of human courtship rituals. If this,” Spock gestured to the Var-kodar plant, “is not sufficient, I will endeavor to-“

Jim cut him off with a shake of his head,

“Spock, you don’t have to be human around me.”

His hands were trembling but Jim remembered the gesture he had seen when researching Vulcans, two fingers extended, the rest folded inwards. He held his hand out, looking at Spock in the star-soaked darkness…waiting… Spock looked at him for a long time.

“Jim.” He finally exhaled, as if that one word held him from coming apart.

Spock reached out with two slender fingers, touching Jim’s fingertips. Warm heat pulsed through Jim’s hand. Spock’s skin felt deliciously hot, his fingers careful, delicately touching along Jim’s. It was perfect, beyond perfect. Spock was standing so close now and Jim wanted to touch his face.

“There is something human I wish to do.” Spock murmured, voice hitching slightly as their hands connected more fully.

Jim looked up at him. He could feel them both trembling. God, Spock was gorgeous in the moonlight.

“I wish to exchange a human kiss.”

Jim nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The Vulcan bent his head so that their breath mingled; he hesitated briefly.

“I may be inadequate.” He murmured and Jim heard the conflicting emotions of desire and worry buried deep.

“That doesn’t matter. You’re more than adequate.” Jim insisted and the corner of Spock’s mouth twitched ever so slightly, one eyebrow rising.

“You have not yet witnessed my technique.” He pointed out in such a scientific voice that Jim closed the distance between them, their mouths meeting.

Warm pliant lips caught against Jim’s and held and hell yes, it felt amazing just kissing Spock. A low noise came from Spock, surprise perhaps, that it could feel this good, or maybe it was Jim kissing him harder that caused that noise. Their fingers entwined and Spock tugged him closer, wrapping one arm around Jim’s waist, their chests meeting, Spock’s body radiating so much heat that Jim felt unsteady, drunk almost on the slow deep kisses. Spock’s tongue was in his mouth, exploring it with shy curiosity and Jim was really going to have to consider sitting down soon before his legs gave out.

He’d never had anyone kiss him with such intensity, such care. The reason why he’d given up relationships made perfect sense now, because there was no one else he’d rather do this with, no one else could come close. And okay, so Spock was a bit awkward, it was clear he’d never kissed anyone, but he was so good with just the right amount of firmness and caution so that Jim really didn’t want it to end. Eventually they parted, both breathing heavily. They looked at one another in the dark before Spock reached out, running two fingers down the side of Jim’s face, the gesture feeling shockingly intimate.

“I see the reflection of the night sky in your eyes.” Spock whispered and Jim inhaled.

He caught Spock’s hand, holding it against his face. The sweet aroma from the Var-kodar plant hung in the air, surrounding them, soaking into his lungs.

“Please tell me this isn’t a dream.” Jim whispered tightly.

Spock leaned down, his lips lightly touching Jim’s. Warm arms came around Jim’s shorter and more compact body, holding him loosely against a dark uniform. Spock tilted his head very slightly so that they could look into each other’s eyes.

“This is not a dream.”


End file.
